PLASTIC BAGS WILL EAT YOU

I feel bad. I made fun of Tyra banks because she's afraid of Dolphins. Who knew they were the only other species on the planet besides humans who rape each other? Sorry Tyra. But the real reason for my apology is because i too have a fear of something seemingly innocous. I am terrified of plastic bags. Not just any plastic bags, but them crazy joints that you see on a windy day on the corner ominously circling. I know some of you can only think of American Beauty when you see those flying bags, but i see an amorphous attack weapon. Those things are unpredicitable and straight filthy. [i believe they are the distant relatives of the amphibious Diaper Shark]. You think i'm crazy? Well listen; One day i was walking down 23rd street with a fellow Bro. Now this Bro is kinda goofy and uncoordinated to begin with. We were heading down the street when i noticed a group of bags whipping around on the corner, one was trying to lay low but i could see it was dangerous. Well the Bro was yapping in my ear as we walked, but i stayed on high alert, trying to predict any possible assaults...then without warning the wind picked up and that bag that was just chilling did a summersault, flew in the air and straight swallowed dudes face! It was insane. He staggered backwards and grabbed at his face like one of them joints from Aliens was trying to kill him. He finally pulled off the bag and gasped for air [At this point i think i pissed myself]. So now you see that my fear was justified. Oh, i'm also afraid of Bro Joel's roof cause it has two creepy abandoned bathrooms, one of which i'm positive Candyman lives in. N-E-R-V-O-U-S.

C'MON WHITE PEOPLE

And I once thoguht Pat Riley was a cool dude aka a smooth operater operating correctly, I was clearly mistaken:

WORLD CUP FEVER [SORT OF]

[yelling back and forth across the apartment]

Bro#1:Dude. I think this soccer match is on in a half hour.
Bro#2: Oh really..Whose playing?
Bro#1: Umm. England verse somebody.....
Bro#2: England verse who?
Bro#1: Verse somebody.
Bro#2: Well they have to play somebody.
Bro#1: ......... England verse some inferior country.
Bro#2: Totally.

COUGARS HAVE DAUGHTERS IN THEIR 20's

The following report was submitted by an Anonymous Bro. So Bro#1 and Bro#2 roll into random magazine party the other night. Here is a small sample of the evening.

Bro#1: (1 1/2 hours into being there) "Hey do you realilze that you, me and two other dudes are the only straight guys here?"
Bro#2: Yeah dude. Did you think all of these friendly guys with strange haircuts, suspenders and funky checkered shorts were straight."
Bro#1: "So basically we're IT!"
Bro#2: "Yeah, so why don't you stop watching basketball and start getting your game on."
Up walks this 55 year old rich desperado [as in very desperate] we'll just call her the "Cougar".
Cougar: [immediately] "You guys wanna do some Yayo?"
Bro#1: "Ahh, yeah sure, why not?"
Bro#2: no comment
Cougar: "Here, just do it on this table look there is a little corner of metal, like a mirror."
Bro#1: "No thanks...maybe i'll just wait a bit."
Cougar: "Ok but I have to go soon, I have a car coming because I lost my license a few weeks back in my porsche." [No doubt on a drunking driving binge somewhere in Conn. Mind you I could care less. Give me your bag and we'll call it good.]
Bro#1: "No worries, I'll be right back."
Into the crowded bathroom i go. I come out a few minutes later to find Bro#2 taking down the digits of said cougar. The Cougar leaves.
Bro#1: "Yo dude! What's with the creepy old womans # ??? What exactly do you plan to do with that?"
Bro#2: "She insisted. She has a house in the Hampton's and she wants us to party with her and her three 20 something year old daughters."
Bro#1: "we're serious creeps"
Bro#2: "definitely"

LIFE ON THE BROad [like road ya jerks]

The following report was filed by our Bro on the road contributer Ryder.
Can you remember the last time you made a White Russian? The last time I had one was at the BlackHawk casino in Colorado years and years ago. Right now I'm in the armpit of the southern most state of this Country. Right in Orlando. And the house I'm staying at has a
goddamn projection screen television right in front of their enclosed swimming pool. Pretty fucking sweet. It's a nice break from this schedule of hell I've been keeping. Playing Warped Tour is like taking everything you never liked about playing music and throwing it at your face all at once. Your surrounded by bands that sound like garbage that are being swarmed and sweated by thousands of fat, grubby, no-neck white kids from the 'burbs and all they want from you (you being the guy in the band that actually sounds different than all the other shit) is some free crap. When I look out at my audience (or lack thereof) everyday in a new city, in a new state I can only weap for the future. When this tour began ten odd years ago the avergae kid coming along was around 17 and up ya' know. It was all the punk kids that dug Fugazi or Op Ivy... Now the average kiddo is about 12 on this tour. And I feel disgusting playing music to people that will have no idea what my band is tryin' to get across. Not like we're philosiphizing onstage about Confucious or anything, but for god's sake we sure as fuck aren't singing about the prom. At any rate, somwhere I was talking about drinking, and right now it's the best thing I fucking got on this trek. Cheers.
-pantherATTACK

HEY JUDGE.....YOU DON'T KNOW ME.

SO… kids finally got admitted to the Bar last week…that’s right, this fool right here is a lawyer. But before I could get admitted I had to go through what they call a “character and fitness” interview. Judging from the name of the interview…shit wasn’t lookin good for this kid. Apparently these interviews last from 2-5 minutes….mine? Well, mine lasted a solid 45. Because I’m known to make real solid decisions, I decide to take this Xanex to the face before the interview. I’ve got no food in my stomach, no water, a bit of a hangover, basically, I’m straight TWISTED. No joke, my hands felt like they had concrete mittens on, and my legs were wobbly as a motherfucker. Fully bearded out, and confused as to whether I was floating or sinking, I roll into this interview where Judge Weiner is waiting for me, and believe me this dude was a full on penis. Things are going real smooth until my man Weiner finds my relatively long, but pretty innocent, arrest record. As he starts going through the random assortment of charges, he realizes that there’s a second page. As we’re nearing the end of page two, he leans back, crosses his arms lookin like he just figured out who shot JFK, and says, “You clearly have a drinking problem.” Not knowing that this was a question I kinda just stare back at the dude. After an awkward couple of seconds my man says,“Well, do you have a substance abuse problem, sir?” In my head, I’m thinking not really but this Xanex has got me melting into this effin chair bro. After what seemed like twenty minutes I simply responded, “Noooooo Waaayyyy Maaannn.” Anyone need a lawyer?

ARMENIAN TEENS LOVE SNAPPLE

A couple days ago [for some loserish reason] I was trying to recall a "snapple fact" that i had read and couldn't remember. So I googled "snapple facts," and the first result on google was: Armenianteens.com. HUH? Who knew Armenians loved snapple facts so much. Anyway, once i was on that website I found a link for Armenian Jokes. Here are some of my favorite "You know you're Armenian when...." "jokes" taken from the site:

#12. You play a musical instrument.
#13. You pick your teeth at the dinner table (but you cover your mouth).
#14. You twirl your pen around your fingers.
#21. You own a rice cooker.
#39. You keep used batteries.
#32. Your parents send money to their relatives in ARMENIA.

MO VAUGHN IS HUSTLIN'

A couple Bros were at the "Rick Ross" show the other day. I guess Rick is a boss, although it was hard to tell with all the treble on those microphones. But one thing is for sure, Mo Vaughn may not be in the MLB anymore but dude is definitely hustlin'.
or

PHIL JACKSON IS UNBELIEVABLE

Bro, this shit is real crazy. Phil Jackson has single handedly brokered a deal for peace in the Middle East. Just when you thought Pat Riley was the truth, Phil goes and does this shit. Unbelievable.

Peep my man Phil's unbelievable diplomatic skills right here: NYTIMES

BAI LING. THE SET-UP. [PART TWO]

The set-up for the big date................

Dear [Anonymous Bro]
I forget, did i already say before, that you look like a friendly man. Sorry for taking so long. Work so crazy this week!!! Friday. That sounds good. Tomorrow it is a date! How about we meet for drink in Manhattan? I am housitting for friend who is away. This bar Sweet Paradise is right down stair, it on orchard btwn hester and canal. 9:30???? If we get bored we can go to other place. Very excited to meet with you [Anonymous Bro], it has been long time since i meet someone new. In fact, i have present for you. I make cd of my favorite chinese music. Will you bring me present friendly man. LOL!!!!! see you tomorrow!!! =)

Part One

DON'T STUTTER

The Heat Might have won that joint but who keeps it really real?! One hint it ani't "People from Israel, Minnesota, Chicago ... all over ... Dallas ... Germany"
P.S. shout out to sam'ron for sending me that JO

PASS THE TROPHY PUN THE LEFT HAND SIDESuperhero pun: Up, up, and a Wade.

Weirdo urban chart-topping pun: "She's a stack...house!"

Hipster fetish pun: Riley Kiley

Civil unrest pun: Avery Coast

Big ol' country brace-face pun: Josh Howard

p.s. you need a 2009 prototype G6 with broaderband and a leprachaun who you give blow jobs to in order to run espn.com smoothly. When you type in that url it should come with a fucking waiting room. Seriously. Bells. Whistles. And some mo' shit. Some mo' bullshit.

NOW THAT WE KNOW DUDE ISN'T CRIPPLED

An Open Letter to Ben Rothlessberger:

Hey Douchebag.
Hmm. Lets see. You play a sport where you wear a cup, ankle braces, knee pads, thigh pads, rib protecting jackets, shoulder and chest pads, a concussion proof super helmet with facebars and a chin strap. You stand behind five or six 300 pound men who protect you from the possibility of a 200 and something pound dude tackling you at a speed of 5- 10 miles per hour. Oh. You also get paid Millions upon millions of dollars to do all this. And there's probably a clause in your contract about how your bosses won't have to pay you if you do something dumb. I belive it's called the "Retard Clause." So you're kinda a brilliant dude, and when you decide to ride your motorcycle that weighs around 500 pounds and goes about 200 mph at top speed and is surrounded by other vehicles weighing around 1,000 pounds or so that also travel at about an average of 3o-50 miles per hour I completely understand why you don't wear a helmet. Cause you're obviously trying to impress someone. Are you worried about your hair? Anyway have fun setting off every metal detector in the world with all those screws in your dome.

P.S.: Its a good thing THIS didn't happen to you.

FIRST. AN INTRODUCTION. [PART ONE]

LADIES AND GENTLEMAN. THE ONE. THE ONLY. BAI LING.

What would you do if approached over myspace by the one and only Bai Ling? What if she sent you a message that said:

Dear Anonymous Bro,
You write very well. I don't like talking about my past cause it was hard life. I only have guys on my page because i like them better than girl. It is hard to find friends who are girls because they get jealous when their boyfriend like me instead. I know you think i am very forward but my past has taught me to be very forward or else. I just got out of a boyfriend and i miss waking up next to someone. It has been a long time. You seem kind. can we meet?

Interested? Well a certain anonymous Bro was very interested. Little did he know that this was all a part of an undercover investigation by The Bro Report to expose the filthy weirdness of Myspace. You see Bai Ling was created by The Bro Report. What you will read over the next few days may disturb you.....stay tuned.

MIDTOWN IS A LEPER COLONY

In case all of you didn't know this, getting drinks in Midtown is a life-altering experience. A friend of mine, who has no job, thought it would be a funny idea to meet me after work and hit up all the after-work midtown bars. After my friend was denied entry into at least three different bars because he was wearing a t-shirt, we finally found our way into an establishment that would stoop to the level of allowing people in who didn't have pleated khakis and popped
collars. It was all fun and games until we were eight beers deep and completely surrounded by douschebags and, oddly enough, wall-to-wall redheads. Somehow we managed to find a bar that was full of fiery, ginger headed girls, who were pasty and freckled out as a motherfucker. It was like a leper colony except even more grotesque. These fire-heads were so brutally under-sexed and man deprived that they were literally grabbing our arms and I'm pretty sure one of them bit my ankle on the way out. We were desperately holding on to the "this could possibly, maybe turn out to be a funny night" scenario, but finally gave up when a pumpkin faced girl asked me for a smoke, by saying, no joke…."you guys look edgy, can we share a cig." Neither of us could muster the strength to even say anything. We simply shook our heads in unison. Three bars later, and much closer to Grand Central Station, after watching countless losers take jello shots topped with whipped cream, my boy was on the phone with his ex-girlfriend pleading, "OH GOD, I'M SO LONELY….I DON'T WANT TO BE ALONE ANYMORE." Meanwhile, I was rocking back and forth on my barstool, close to tears, as the cover band was on their third Matchbox 20 song. Never again….oh God,never again.

GGOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLL!!!!!!

I can't lie. I've kind of been getting into some of this World Cup soccer thing. I mean the U.S. got destroyed, but watching Brazil play was thoroughly entertaining and it was only a 1 to 0 game. I don't know what's in the water in Brazil, but those dudes sure know how to kick some balls. Despite my enjoyment of watching these matches/games(?) There is one thing that still pisses me off. Why is it that whenever there's a bit of physical contact Soccer dudes straight freak out, fall to the ground and grab their ankle like they were just caught in a bear trap, scream like a banshee, then roll around like they're on fire? The worst part is once the foul has or has not been called, they just get up and run off like nothing happened. Come on RonaldDingo - stop fronting.

A QUICK MESSAGE...

To all you dog owners in NYC... STOP CARRYING YOUR FUCKING DOGS!!

That shit is mad annoying yo, seriously. Dogs have 4 legs, it might just be easier for a dog to walk than people. I don't give a shit if your dog is really small and it fits in there perfectly. STOP CARRYING YOUR FUCKING DOGS!! You know you have a leash, stop faking, that dog wants to sniff all the foul shit on the ground like every other dog. I mean the amount of people I see with their little "poochie" in a bag is unbelievable. It doesn't look cool and it really doesn't make much sense. When that dog shits in the bottom of your bag because you didn't put him on the ground, you better hope I'm not there because I'm going to straight up laugh in your mug.

And then I'm going to call you Shitty Shit McDaniels.

YO BRO ARE U KIDDING ME?!?

I know all Bros, save for this dude right here, work out on at least a semi regular basis, and I wanna ask you a question … ARE YOU DUDES FUCKIN NUTS??? I went for a jog Friday and that shit was a weird form of torture. That joint officially duffed me out, son. So I start out and I’m going, and shit's all good: I’m rocking the headphones, got the crisp new running shoes on, thinking “yo son look at me I’m so healthy bee." Then block ten happened. I started to feel like someone was straight choking me out. Busted out another 5 blocks and stopped into a walk. By then my head was straight throbbing, and my brain was just saying, “kill me” on repeat. My face was so flush and hot I felt like somebody have given me the sick buck 50. My chest felt like Bruce Lee just gave me the sickest one-inch punch ever, and Tyson had just straight up “gone to work” on my ribs (no homo). So my ribs hurt more than my chest cause we all know Tyson would kill Bruce Lee in the one d. Honestly if I had stopped I would have straight hurled. So basically I was walking death, and while this is all going down some fat Asian women jogs by with her ipod ... all "la-di-da", like that shit was just a day in the park (oh wait I guess it was). Like jogging was a game, this aint a game you worthless piece of shit. And I’m thinking “I’m gonna effiing kill ya you fat fucking cow … if only I could catch up to you … which I clearly could not. There were definitely no endorphins involved. But as I dragged my sorry ass back to the crib, I saw some killer graffiti. For no reason at all, on some dude's garage door it said in sloppy marker, “lick my damn butt whole” (and yes they spelled it that way). That joint kinda gave me a chuckle. Then there were two 19 year old kids in front me and one kid gets off his cell and is made amped, and gives his man the pound and says “yo son I’m crack money like a bad honey,” and I just thought “man I’m NOT crack money like a bad honey" at all at this moment.

WHAT AN IDIOT

Money earned from past week of work = 0$
Back to back to back nights out, getting twisted in NYC = 200$
Losing your cell phone = 225$
Losing your digital camera = 350$

The cost of killing your brain cells with alcohol? definitely NOT priceless.

MIND YOUR MANNERS

After extensive research The Bro Report division of Sexual Education has compiled data on what Appropriate "Condom Etiquette" does NOT include:

1. Leaving a "banna peel" on the floor to be slipped on in the morning.
2. Ignoring the box of tissues and throwing said condom on the top of the trash because apparently, and I quote, "I don't want to be reminded of what happened last night first thing in the morning."
3. Winging a wrapper across the room having it accidently land in a shoe.
4. "The Missing Link"- You're pretty sure sex took place. The open wrapper is found, but the condom has disappeared.

Don't act like you don't know what we're talking about.

Zark alike, Be alike

It has been widely reported by now that the nefarious Al Zark had a bomb dropped on him in Iraq, just north of Baghdad. But the Zark, also known as Young Zarkowitz, Al Zarkton and Cup Cake (as in "lemmmme get a cup cake") is holding it down in his fortress in Brooklyn. Preparations are still underway at the Ministry of Brofence headquarters. Zark still lives! He might blow up but he won't go pop.

THAT'S NOT A KNIFE. NOW THIS IS A KNIFE.

My Pops and I were walking past the horses along Central Park South the other day:

Me: You know, I don't really mind the smell of Horse shit.
Pops: Me neither.....It's not bad.
- Horse immediately to our left starts taking a huge piss...
Me: Whoa there...now that's taking a pee.
Pops: Seriously. I wish my prostate worked that well.
Me: Ewww.

THE BRO BEHIND THE CURTAIN

Bros, meet the Bro
The beast that binds us all is exposed to the world for the first time. Fear not, for it is he that shall shine the light of righteousness upon us all.
For real though, leave it to some icelandic blogger-babe to write a program that searches through your website and draws a diagram of it before your eyes.

ANOTHER LIFE SAVED BY THE BRO REPORT...MAYBE

Bro #1: Dude. I wanna chill and grab some more beers - but i really got to be out.
Bro #2: Wait. why? You should hang out, you just got here.
Bro #1: Nah man.... listen bro i'm talkin' to this girl......
Bro #2: So???
Bro #1: You don't understand.... she's got this job. It's cool if I'm late for work, but if shorty's late, there might be some problems if you know what i mean.
Bro #2: Huh? What does she do?
Bro #1: Suicide hotline operator..bad news...I'm not tryin' to be responsible for some shit like that.
Bro #2: You better get going.

TBR MONTHLY MAULING REPORT

A man shouting that God would keep him safe was mauled to death by a lioness in Kiev zoo after he crept into the animal's enclosure, a zoo official said on Monday. "The man shouted 'God will save me, if he exists', lowered himself by a rope into the enclosure, took his shoes off and went up to the lions," the official said. "A lioness went straight for him, knocked him down and severed his carotid artery." The Lioness was also reportedly overheard before the attack saying to her companion, "Holy shit. If God exists he will let me maul this dumb fuck."

ITS A DOG EAT DOG WORLD

My depressing daytime tv selection for today:

As I sullenly sat in front of my computer sending out new resumes and waiting for email responses to past job applications, I looked up at the t.v. and realized I was watching a show on Animal Planet entitled: "Dogs with Jobs."

Great.

YOU DON'T KNOW ME.....YOU DON'T KNOW...ME

Listen, bro, do you really have to take the elevator to the second floor? Is this necessary? You don’t look very crippled to me. Matter of fact, if you took off that doofy-ass LL Bean backback, I’m pretty sure you could beat me in a race, or any other physical activity. That is unless I cheat. Cause I do cheat. Like that time in elementary school I rigged the “anonymous” drawing contest by telling all the nerd-faced girls which drawing was mine so they would vote me the winner….“anonymously.” I can’t draw for shit, but that bullshit frog I drew straight debowed the competition. I wonder where those nerd-faced girls are now? Actually, I know exactly where they are; they are most definitely editors at some fashion/gossip magazine NOT inviting me to their parties. Whatever NERD, remember when you were a sick NERD who got duped into voting for a retarded beast that looked absolutely nothing like a frog. Fuck your party. What I’m really trying to tell you is this, homeboy has no business taking the elevator from ONE to TWO. Next time I’m gonna tell my man real nicely that he needs to get off, and when, like a JERK, he says “why??!?,” I’m gonna straight bug out on some Bronx Tale shit and be like, “NOW YOU CAN’T LEAVE,” and just start swinging my man into the walls of the elevator with his huge ass LL Bean bag…all while saying over and over again “You don’t know me, you don’t know me.” Then I’m gonna take the elevator to the second floor and suplex him out that joint. That’s right…SUPLEX.

BOB'S GOT HOPS

A lot of you out there may know that Bobby Taliban [aka Robbie Talihan] is trying to get real healthy this summer. Dude is actually attempting to get physically fit - no joke. What most of you don't know is that Robbie used to be an amazing athlete, but his hopes and dreams as a professional athlete were shattered after a horrible Basketball/Trampoline incident when he was 13. The devastating knee injury physically kept Robbie from participating in sports of any kind, but the most damage was truly done to his psyche, Robbie just couldn't get over the incident and instead dedicated himself to a life of Punk rock and Winstons. So when you see this dude out getting his run on, give him a thumbs up in support- he's been through a lot.

DOLPHINS WILL STRAIGHT MERK YOU

So the other day I was sitting on my couch watching the Tyra Banks show......listen douchebag I don't have job, and unless you want to hire me don't criticize my daytime tv selections. Anyway, if you haven't seen the show, it's basically Tyra Banks doing some talk show bullshit. Oh, and she is a complete retard. Literally. She's a complete moron. So this episode starts with a dramatic build up...Tyra is determined, she's tying her shoes, she getting into a car, she's got this serious face -staring through the window off into the distance. Then there's a fake flashback/dream sequence of her having nightmares. You see Tyra is on her way to conquer her biggest fear. That's what this episode is all about. Conquering your biggest and baddest fears. So Tyra arrives at this mysterious location and immediately starts crying. She's shaking and freaking out and straight runs off camera. So what's her fear? Is it flying? Is it heights? Fire? Water? Nope. Dolphins. Yup. I said DOLPHINS. oh man, what an idiot. Why are you afraid of dolphins? More over, that's your biggest fear? Who cares. When the hell are you ever going to run into a dolphin? That's a fear that doesn't need to be conquered lady. Just live with it. That's like me saying my biggest fear are grizzly bears. Am I gonna try and chill with a bear to fix that? Hell no. Maybe I'm a complete weirdo, but watching Tyra Banks cry at sea world was one of the funniest things I've seen in awhile. Later in the show she had a bunch of other people on to face their biggest fears. This big fat black lady was straight TERRIFIED of pennies. She wouldn't go near them. That was pretty funny. But not really because I too am terrifed of money. You won't see me anywhere near that shit.

YOU CAUGHT THE BURGLES

Since the Bro staff is busy preparing for the weekend and couldn't think of anything else to write, you loyal readers get some more Bro-Slanguage. Although its use has expanded, this word was derived from an unfortunate lunch that a few Bros ate at spot in WilliamsBURG. The weirdo burger meat was undoubtedly made from the Ewok like cats who were scavenging around the backyard of this restaurant. Word to the wise, never eat a burger where Ewoks have staked out the joint. You're eating Ewok meat, and you will most definitely catch a case of The Burgles.

The Burgles: () Pronunciation Key (B-er^gl-z)
n. ber^gl-d, soo-pur biz-burgl-d

1. Inability to digest or difficulty in digesting after eating someone or thing.
2. Disheartening discomfort or illness resulting from this inability or difficulty resulting in cancellation of all social plans for the evening.
   
3. a disorder of digestive function characterized by discomfort, heartburn, nausea or general feeling of doom that you will probably poop yourself.
   
4. An abnormal increase in the acidity of the body's fluids, caused either by accumulation of whiskey acids or by depletion of bicarbonates through excessive eating of various meat [especially Ewok] or faux meat products shaped into a patty and consumed rapidly.
5. A common side order served at any ghetto rice and beans spot.
   

NO HOMO

i250 (the inventor of Tim Dog Day) called this (Killia Season, the new feature length movie from Cam'ron) the worst piece of hip hop paraphernalia he has ever seen. And there really is no greater authority, I don't think anyone in the world has heard more rap songs than your man i250. The amount of money this dude has spent on rap mixtapes is greater than the Gross Domestic Product of most third world countries. This is coming from the kid who used to stomp out the mix tapes he decided were wack, literally destroy those joints, wack mix tapes got duffed out severely around i250.
So clearly he in the best position to review this film. But this scene is kinda amazing you gotta wait for the end of the clip:

I SAID FRONT, DOWN ON FRONT STREET

As part of The Bro Report's effort to educate the children we have started a monthly "slangology" forum. Unfortunately As a product of the NYC public school system I don't know much about "definitions" or "grammar" or "reading," but I do know that a picture's worth a thousand words.
)

Front Street; (fr-unt str-yt)
n.

1. The place of business or procrastination where a Bro resides instead of kickin' it with his peoples and doing real things.
2. Not doing Big things.
3. Bullshitting.
4. If you are a sellout you've probably been kickin' it on Front Street.
5. If you have ever smoked Bobos you were probably born on Front Street.
6. If you are dannyfresh you currently live on Front Street.
   
7. The place you go if you have a tummy ache and don't come to this open bar jumpoff.
8. Located either perpendicular to or parallel with the equally worthless Beat Street.